The Not so Normal
by shayne018
Summary: Alias Cairn is anything but normal. Even in the eyes of the Wizarding World. With an insane mother, a famous father, and eight brothers, she couldnt help but be different. But the world will soon learn,that there is always more than meets the eye.


**Alias Cairn**

"But Professor," I replied seriously, "this is all his fault!"

"How so?"

I rolled my eyes exasperatedly. I mean it was completely obvious just how much this was all his fault.

"He HIT me sir," I continued, "He hit my fist with his face again! Now I don't know about you, but I think that deserves some form of punishment!"

Hey, my name is Alias Cairn, yeah, blame the 'rents for that one, and I'm just your typical teenager. I'm a witch. My father's practically famous, and my mother's been married eleven times and a half. I have eight brothers, and no sisters. I get so many detentions that the Professor's take to handing them out the moment they see me, just to save time. My best friend's are guys, and girls hate me for it. I say the first thing that comes into my mind. I have no control whatsoever over my temper. I can't seem to walk across a flat surface without finding something to trip on, and the voices in my head never seem to agree. Oh, and I have this habit of waking up screaming in the middle of the night.

Okay... so maybe I'm not _just_ your typical teenager.

Hey, my name is Alias Cairn, and this is my life.

**Chapter One: Meet the family**

I groaned. How could I forget? Today… today was what I liked to call D-Day. Today was the day my father would drop me off at my mothers. Great. My mother and father hadn't spent more than five minutes in each other's company since I was three months old. Even in those five minutes they managed to throw out a lifetime's worth of insults, well, at least mum did. I had taken to ignoring them lately. It was easier.

My father and I didn't have the greatest relationship in the world, we didn't really talk much. On top of that, I only got to see him for a couple of weeks in the Summer Holidays, if I was lucky and he didn't have some press conference he had to go to. Even when I was there, he was pretty busy, signing papers, making public appearances, posing for photos, that sort of thing. Sometimes he took me along. His agent said it was to help his image. The loving father thing. It was really weird. And the Minister of Magic was a complete tool. I told him so too. Needless to say my father and I didn't go on many 'outings' after that. My father was a great public speaker. My father was… Wizarding royalty… that's the only way I can describe it. He's filthy rich, and pretty good looking I'll admit. With his dark hair, and dark, mysterious eyes, he was a heart throb for woman everywhere. My father's job was to attend all sorts of political meetings, and appearances; even though legally he had no sway over the way our country was run, whatever he wanted, he generally got. I almost laughed at the irony. My father running the country? Please. He couldn't even run his own home. He had so many 'assistants' it wasn't funny. He had one to take care of his cats, one to organize his meals, one to clean his room, one to feed his owl, one to buy his clothes, one to keep an eye on his investments, one to organize his schedule, and I think that's it… Oh, and one to tell him when to take bathroom breaks. Disturbing.

"MOVE!" roared my father from downstairs. Seriously, he needed to man up a little. He never admitted it but he was terrified of my mother. I don't know why. Unless he's terrified of how much she talks. I have to admit, it scares me a little too.

With a series of loud groans, and cuss words, we managed to squish my trunk into the car. I don't even know why we had one. It's not like we needed one. Oh well, it was just another of my father's crazes. I whistled for Daes, my dog. He was totally gorgeous. He was huge and grey and he looked just like a wolf. Maybe that's why I liked him so much. Daes clambered into the back seat. That was another reason I loved him. He was almost as clumsy as me.

"Do you have to take that stupid dog?" my father grumbled, buckling himself into the front. I glared at him, and Daes growled.

"Wow, a whole sentence this time!" I replied sarcastically to which my father's intelligent reply was a grunt. I rolled my eyes. Tipping my head back into my seat, I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep with Daes' head in my lap.

Another grunt from my father indicated that we had arrived. With a heavy sigh, I dragged my suitcase up the long cobbled path towards my mother's door. I couldn't help but let out a snort at the sight of my mother's house. It was three stories high, and had way too many windows. Each one sparkled perfectly though. Not a chip of white paint was faded, or peeling off the walls. The cobble path lay directly between two large expanses of lawn. Not a blade of grass was out of place. Not a speck of dirt to be seen. I rolled my eyes again, as my father quickly glanced down at himself, straightening up his jacket, pulling imaginary lint off his brand new, never before worn suit. He glanced at me, and a growl escaped his throat; translation?

"What are you wearing?"

I ignored him. I couldn't care less about the way I looked to my parents. After what seemed like forever we finally reached the door. I knocked; once, twice, three times. My mother opened the door, and tears filled her eyes as she saw me.

Her blonde hair was sitting delicately on her shoulders, every strand in its perfect position. Not a single fly away. She'd even got the little flicks at the bottom perfect. Her make up? Perfect, not a single smudge. She was wearing an almost floor length black skirt, and a white blouse, underneath a white apron. She looked like a maid.

"Alias!" she cried, throwing her arms around me. "It's been too long! I swear you've grown three inches since I saw you last!" Yeah right, I thought. I'd seen her last week. "It feels like forever! And you only get to stay for a week, and then you'll be going off to that wretched school. Oh, it makes me cry just thinking about it!" She was already crying for Pete's sake. "Oh, and you brought the dog. Oh I wish you would just let me buy you an owl dear, dogs are such unclean creatures. I see you brought along that father of yours. And I suppose it was his fault you were late again," I rolled my eyes as I glanced at my watch. It was 9.31. We were supposed to be there at 9.30. "What do you think you're doing? Don't just stand around Jalien, bring her bags inside." My mother turned to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder again, herding me inside. "I cannot believe that man sometimes. Making you carry in your own trunk! Whatever happened to chivalry? Honestly, sometimes I just want to strangle him. Oh dear, what are you wearing? That skirt is much too short! And tights! What kind of a mother do you think I am that I would let my only daughter wear such horrible things? Tights, honestly, the things that man let's you get away with. It's his fault that you spend so much time in detention. I've positively lost count of how many you've had so far, 453 I think it was, but don't take my word for it, it is only a guess after all. Oh for Pete's sake, how long does it take to bring in a few bags? Can that man do anything right?"

I tuned out her perfect soprano voice. Seriously, how on earth had she managed to get married so many times? The divorces I understood. I glanced at the engagement ring on her finger. It was at this moment that I saw my mother's latest prisoner; I mean fiancée, standing in the kitchen, chopping up meat at the bench. He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled sympathetically at him. Poor guy, I thought to myself. No idea what he's getting himself into.

"Alias, it's so nice to see you again!" he said happily. I simply shook my head at him.

"Good luck!" I mouthed to him jabbing my finger at my mother who was still talking.

"Now, where on earth are your brothers?" she asked finally stopping to take a breath. I grinned. They would all be here. In eleven marriages, my mother had been blessed with nine children. Of course, she still looked like she'd never even seen a candy bar. She was after all, perfect. After each of the divorces, my mother had gained full custody over each of us, with our fathers being granted visitation rights only. I heard some shouts. That would be my brothers; all eight of them. There was only one thing my mother had no control of. And that was her kids. I pulled away from her and ran to the sliding door, bursting into the backyard.

"ALIAS!" they roared together, and suddenly I was sandwiched in a hug from each direction. Finally they let me go, and I glanced around. The backyard was a mess. Just the way I liked it. The swing set was broken. The trampoline had a hole in it. The pool had no water in it, and was covered in skid marks from the boy's skateboards. There was a broken tree branch lying in the middle of the unmowed grass. The great oak tree had scratch marks all over its trunks as we'd all carved our names into it. There were broken toys all over the lawn, and several broomsticks with incredibly bushy tails were lining the fence.

"And so the master returns!" laughed Mikel, my oldest brother. He had just turned 17.

"HEY!" roared Mark, his younger twin, by exactly eight minutes. "We all know who the true master is," he cried, tackling Mikel. Immediately the rest of my brothers joined the fight. I sat back and watched them. They were awesome.

Mikel and Mark, were from mother's first marriage. They both had dark hair, and green eyes, although Mark's was slightly curlier; and they both had an addiction for trouble. They went to Durmstrang Academy, since it was closer to their dad.

I was almost sixteen. I was the only one of us kids who went to Hogwarts, and I'm kinda glad I am. I wouldn't want eight overprotective boys following me around. Talk about lame.

Sammy was 15; from mother's third marriage. He had red hair, freckles, and green eyes. He was the smartest of my brothers. He was also the tallest, and the lankiest. His father was muggle, and he was born without magic, so he attended the Muggle School twenty minutes down the road.

Deane and Derek were 13 and from mom's fifth marriage (the one in between my father and theirs lasted a record of two weeks). Deane had mom's blonde hair, and his dad's brown eyes, and he was a complete goof. Derek had his dad's red hair, and mom's blue eyes. He was… crazy. Deane and Derek's dad was muggle as well, but only Derek was a wizard. He went to Durmstrang with Mark and Mikel, and Deane went to school with Sammy. They both liked to fight, and were quite large for their age.

Justice was 11, and he was from mother's sixth marriage. He had long dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. His father was Indian. Although his dad was pure-blooded, Justice was born as a squib, and was therefore attending the same school as Deane and Sammy. He was quieter than the rest of my brother's, but he was incredibly witty when he wanted to be.

Leis was 8, and was from mother's ninth marriage. He had mom's blue eyes, but his dad's dark hair and skin. We weren't sure if he was magic or not yet; though for now he attended the local primary. He loved sports. He played every sport he could.

Finally, there was little Reign; (yeah my mother's got strange taste in names). He was 6, and his father lasted the longest. Two years; two long years. Reign looked just like mum. Blonde hair, blue eyes, small for his age. But he was gorgeous. He loved all things outdoors. Mother dearest would scream, if it was lady like of course, at all the things he did. She was constantly finding all sorts of bugs, and small creatures in his room. And he was always getting dirty. Oh, I bet my mother loved that!

I watched my brothers throw punches, throw dirt, and simply throw each other. I smiled. I was home. With a roar, I launched myself at them, and joined in the battle.

After what seemed like hours, and most probably was, we trooped inside, covered in dirt, mud and sweat. Mother took one look at us, and took a deep, breath.

"Go wash up, now!" she said with a smile on her face. My mother was nearly always smiling. Even when she was dishing insults at our dad's, she was always smiling. It was creepy. My brothers and I trudged up the stairs, getting mud and dirt all over mother's freshly cleaned carpets, and to our separate bathrooms. We all had our own bathrooms. Except for the twins. The twins shared, and Leis and Reign shared as well.

After my shower, I took a great deal of time deciding on what to wear to dinner. Dinner was a big thing with my mom. She would take great pains to set the table with her best china. She would put fresh flowers in the vase in the middle of the freshly varnished wooden table. She would lay out her best white silk tablecloth. That always bugged me. Who had silk tablecloths for Pete's sake? She would spend all afternoon preparing a fancy dinner, which translated into she stood there and 'supervised' while her husband/fiancée/prisoner followed her orders. She would sit us all down at 'our' special seats, and then she'd wait for the boys to serve her first, and then me. Then they were allowed to serve themselves, youngest first. She would always wear her fancy evening gowns, and expected her man to be wearing dress robes, or a tuxedo. She expected us to dress up too. And so we did. Just not in the way she preferred.

The boys would all put on their most raggedy, holey jeans. Then they would find their biggest, baggiest, dirtiest shirts they could, and they'd put on their thick black hooded sweatshirts, hoods up of course. As for me, I would put on my shortest skirt, and my skimpiest top. Then I'd put on some big dangly earrings, and put my hair up in a ponytail. Gasp. Woman should never wear their hair up, my mother says. Then I'd do the most horrible thing imaginable. I'd wear my chucks. Shoes with a skirt. It's just not right! Half an hour late, we stomped back down the stairs and took the wrong seats at the table. We were supposed to sit from oldest to youngest, but we sat from youngest to oldest. Gasp again. We didn't want to give the old lady a heart attack after all. The boys served themselves straight away, and I grabbed my own meal.

"Well," said my mother, as we sat down. "I would have thought we had moved past this kind of behavior,"

"Nothing's changed since last week" I muttered in an undertone

"But obviously, I was wrong."

"Duh" she's still ignoring me, where's the love right mom?

"I guess I'm just going to have change my expectations."

"About time" replied Mikel

"How could I raise such children? How could my children be so disrespectful? It breaks my heart"

"You shouldn't have had so many then" muttered Mark

"I'm doing the best I can"

"Sure sure" Sammy

"And yet you all insist on betraying my trust at every turn"

"What trust?" Deane

"It makes me want to cry, but I will be strong"

"Strong my ass, you're crying already" Sammy

"I will not let you win"

"We already have" Derek

"I hope you all know how much I love you all"

"Please you just like the money that comes with divorce" Deane

"And I hope you will show more respect to Danny,"

"So that's his name, I'm losing track" Me again

"Then you did with your previous fathers"

"Notice the plural" Justice

"Because I love him"

"Course you do" Mikel

"More than anything else in this whole world"

"That's what you said last time" Derek

"And I think I've finally got it right"

"You said that too" Leis

"And I'm hoping, that we'll finally settle down"

"And that" Mark

"And we'll finally be a real family"

"Our dreams come true" Justice

"And you'll finally respect me"

"Never gonna happen" all of us together

"Because as you all know…"

And so it continued. I shook my head at her in disbelief. She was still going. I glanced down at my watch. Ten minutes. She'd been talking for ten minutes straight. Mikel looked at me and pulled a face. I snorted into my drink. My mother smiled sweetly at me, not pausing to take a breath as she continued with her address. I looked up at Danny; he was staring at my mother in shock. He'd never had dinner with the family before, and he was finally realizing the mistake he'd made when he proposed to my mother. I winked at Mark, and held out my hand. He slammed five galleons into it. I'd won. Again. I always seemed to know when the men would take off. It was a gift. Ten minutes passed and we had stuffed our faces, and we left the table. My mother finally stopped talking as we all walked away.

A mother's love; greatest thing since Quidditch. Ha, sometimes I cracked myself up.


End file.
